


Weekend in Boston

by angelinthecity



Series: New England [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Orgasm Control, Smut, Very mild food play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-02 15:07:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16307483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelinthecity/pseuds/angelinthecity
Summary: An extra story from theConnecticutuniverse.Armie takes Timmy out on a proper first date as promised. They haven’t seen each other for a week, having been shooting the sequel at different locations. Timmy has only received the name of a five-star hotel in Boston and an order to meet Armie at a restaurant across the street, but that’s where the instructions had ended.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There’s mayyybe a tiny blink-and-you’ll-miss-it hint of a plot in there, but mainly just shameless fluff and smut with a little bit of jealous Armie thrown in. T’s POV this time. 
> 
> Fiction fiction fiction.
> 
> Oh, and if you haven’t already, you may want to read Connecticut (Part 1 of this series) first so that things make more sense here :)

"Excuse me, is this seat taken," someone asks behind me as I sit at the bar. The low voice manages to startle me amidst the steady background noises of people chattering and glasses clinking.

I'm about to say that I'm actually waiting for someone, when I turn around and see Armie, in a navy blue jacket and a white shirt. With short scruff on his face, just the amount that I like. He has had to maintain Oliver’s clean shaven look all these weeks, but now that he's had a couple of days off I guess he's decided to let his facial hair grow.

He raises his eyebrows expectantly, but with the kind of neutral yet friendly look one would give a stranger. I decide to play along and wave at the bar stool next to me.

”No, please, go ahead.”

”Thanks. So are you waiting for company or… Sorry, did I catch your name?”

”Tim.”

”Tim. Nice to meet you, Tim, I'm Armand.”

” _Armand_? Really?”

”Shut up and just go with it,” Armie tenderly scolds me under his breath and then continues in his normal voice: ”So are you here on your own, Tim?”

I try to suppress my visible amusement. This could get interesting. ”I…I think I am, yes?”

”In that case, would you like some company? Oh, and it looks like you haven’t got a drink yet, would you let me buy you one?”

”Yeah, a drink, sure, why not. A beer, please.”

He gestures to the bartender and orders a beer for me and a whiskey for himself.

We haven't seen each other for a week now, his scenes for the week 4 of _Call Me by Your Name_ sequel having been filming in Boston while mine have taken place in the New England countryside. To keep up with the schedule despite the storm that had delayed our start, we along the whole crew had so far worked also through Saturdays and Sundays more often than not. But when it had turned out that we would both have this weekend off, Armie had wanted to take me out on our first official date.

He had texted me the name and the address of a five-star hotel in Boston, and told me to be at the restaurant across the street at six on this Saturday night. However, that was where the instructions had ended.

My train had arrived in Boston earlier this afternoon and I had had enough time to drop my bags off at the hotel and change. I had decided to wear a slim black shirt and even slimmer black pants that had been sent to me by one of my favorite designers. I had been saving them for a special occasion, and this was definitely special enough.

I had noticed Armie’s luggage already neatly placed in the corner of our penthouse suite, but he had been nowhere in sight himself. He hadn’t yet arrived at the restaurant either when I got there, so I had sat down at the bar to wait. It had taken only a couple of minutes for him to arrive, though, and now he’s playing the oldest game in the book, pretending he doesn’t know me.

”So, _Armand_ , what brings you here on this beautiful night?”

He tilts his whiskey from one side to the other in the glass before taking a sip. ”Oh, I'm in town for business and we already sealed the deal with the client during the day, so I got the evening off.”

”Congratulations, man. And Boston’s a great city to have a night off.”

”Yup, looking forward to it, and it’s been a great start so far.” He flashes a smile. Is this how he would flirt with a stranger? ”And what do you do?”

”I'm an actor, actually.”

”Oh really? Working on anything special right now?”

”Yeah, I'm shooting a movie nearby.”

”Wow, that’s awesome. Is it fun?”

”Absolutely, so many talented people behind it, not to mention really hot co-stars.”

”Really? Plural?” The ice in his whiskey clinks against the glass.

”Well, one in particular. He kinda looks like you, actually. Minus the scruff,” I touch his cheek fleetingly.

”Oh. And what’s he like?”

I smile unabashedly. Every version of me, this pretend one included, is madly proud of him. ”Geniusly talented and just overall amazing.”

”Sounds like someone’s got a little workplace crush! Are you planning on doing anything about it?” He leans in close enough that our shoulders touch. Even without our little game, there’s not much we could do in public anyway, for fear of ending up on tabloids if anyone recognizes us and decides to tip them off.

I take a long swig of my beer. ”Oh believe me, I’m trying.”

We are interrupted by the waiter who comes over to inform Armie that our table is ready.

”This way, sir.”

We follow the waiter to a fairly secluded corner of the restaurant. The tables next to the window would have had a nice park view to the Boston Public Garden on the other side of the street, but I’m pleased to have more privacy.

 

 

I don’t know what my expectations for tonight had been exactly, but I had somehow pictured getting to feel his lips on mine the moment I would see him. Now, that is obviously going to have to wait, since we are sitting surrounded by white tablecloths and the quiet murmur of refined Bostonians.

We order the tasting menu which is New England -influenced French cuisine, and the dishes brought to us range accordingly from lobster to fois gras. Everything is exquisite and as a food enthusiast, Armie enjoys the culinary aspect even more than I do. I like the food too, but as our set is busy and populated with crew members, any chance to talk just amongst the two of us would already have made me perfectly happy.

Well, mostly happy at least.

Yes, we have FaceTimed every night while he’s been away here in Boston, but still, it’s no replacement for the real thing of being together, especially after we had just discovered the new, physical aspects of our relationship. And now I haven't so much as kissed him for a week and as the evening progresses with new dishes being brought out one after the other, it's getting harder and harder not to do it right here and now. Especially with that newly-grown beard of his. I would gladly have it scratch against my cheek, and my stomach, and my inner thighs–

”–so that’s why I love coming here, there’s nothing like this in California.”

I haven’t been listening to a word he’s said.

”Uh, yeah, I get that, sure,” I nod anyway.

”Our headquarters are in L.A., but a lot of our clients are across the country so I travel a lot.”

”And do you have a family? What do they think of your being away from them so much?”

”Oh, I’m single right now. I do have kids and they live in California, but they are with my ex-wife when I need to travel.”

”So basically, you’re free to find company in whichever city you visit?” I suggest while trying to cut into my fancy, deconstructed version of a lobster roll without messing up its intricate presentation.

”Well, earlier it might have been like that, but right now I think we sort of have something going on with this one guy I’ve known for ages. We used to be just friends, but recently things have taken a turn for something more.”

”Interesting.”

”Yeah. I had had my eye on him for a long time but timing never seemed to be right before.” In the midst of this game, we can’t help but exchange a quick look that’s filled with such tender affection and want that I immediately wish I could to climb over the table and into his lap. ”But enough about me. Do you visit Boston often yourself?”

”I did shoot a movie here a few years ago, actually, but haven’t been back much since. The current movie is shooting in several smaller places close by, but I don’t have any of my scenes filming in Boston.”

”So what kind of a movie is it?”

”It’s like an…intimate sort of portrait into the lives of two men over several years, I would say.”

I’m interrupted by the waiter bringing our last main course, a sirloin steak in bordelaise sauce, and Armie doesn’t waste any time, expertly cutting into his meat while he continues the conversation.

”And you play one of them?”

”Yeah. And the guy who kinda looks like you plays the other one.” I get a grin out of him. ”They experienced a summer romance years earlier.”

”Are they reconnecting now?”

”Not yet, my scenes have mostly been with someone who plays my current boyfriend.”

”And what’s he like?” A non-chalant question, maybe too much so.

”The character or the actor?”

”I don’t know; both?”

I know Armie met the actor, Paul, on set at the beginning of filming, so I’m not exactly sure where this is going.

”Well, the character is a fledgling composer and during the movie he finds out he’s contracted HIV, so it’s kind of heavy and challenging material for me too. Whereas the actor, he’s a hugely talented classical musician. He’s only starting out as an actor, but he’s been really great to work with.”

”A musician, huh?”

He swallows and I stare at a drop of the dark golden sauce left behind just below his bottom lip.

”Yeah, and our director basically picked him out of obscurity.”

”And besides his musical talent, he’s hot too?” The tip of his tongue comes out to lick away the drop, and I’m imagining us somewhere where he would already be licking off something else than the bordelaise sauce.

”Well, you know, movies tend to be aesthetically pleasing,” I shrug and finish the last bites of my own steak in silence while he stares at the table.

After a little while the waiter comes over to clear our plates and bring our final course, a dessert of lemon mousse with a heavy layer of meringue on top. Armie picks up his spoon and cuts into his dessert with force.

”So how about that other co-star of yours, the one who looks like me, what’s his story?” The spoon clinks loudly when it hits the porcelain and the golden peaks of meringue crumble all over his plate.

”Um, I think his character is supposed to be married with kids, but for now, I have tried to mostly concentrate on just my character’s relationship with this other guy. I mean, I’m like, not supposed to know how he is, so I haven’t paid that much attention to his side of the story. Besides, I am probably breaking about a trillion contracts by telling you even this much,” I smile.

”So…you’re not really thinking of him?” A spoonful of lemon mousse goes into his mouth and I wish my tongue could follow it.

”Well, I would be kind of doing a disservice to the actors that my storylines are with, if I wasn’t fully in it with them.”

He looks at me with darkened eyes and slips his hand on my thigh under the table.

”You’re still mine, you know.”

He grips me firmly enough to make his point, apparently forgetting that he’s a business man from California, and that’s it for me.

I get up and excuse myself to go to the bathroom, but lean down to whisper in his ear before I leave the table. "I'm done pretending, _Armand_. I want to kiss you, now."

I know he'll follow me, and I have barely reached the bathroom at the end of the hallway and closed the door behind me, when he already yanks it open and locks it behind him. Luckily, it's a one stall unisex bathroom and rather nicely decorated. I would've done this in a stall next to urinals if I had had to, but I'm glad I don't have to.

"So Tim, are you always like this on first dates?"

He slides his hand around the curve of my waist and I arch towards him instinctively when his palm reaches my lower back.

We've never really had to deal with the nerves of a first kiss. Physically, the first time we kissed was on the grass behind the villa where we shot the first film, with our director blindsiding us with an impromptu rehearsal and there was really no time to think or feel anything. There was more time to think when we shot Elio and Oliver’s first kiss on the berm, but still, it was a directed, acting kiss. Three weeks ago when Armie had kissed me for the first time as him and not Oliver, it was a firework of emotion but it had been a split-second decision which had eliminated all opportunities for any anticipation.

But there’s plenty of it now. He studies my face, while his thumb pushes a rogue curl away from my forehead and then traces down my cheek, stopping at my lips. His palm grabs my chin and the pad of his thumb sweeps slowly across my lower lip, pulling on it just enough to expose the slick pink flesh inside.

We have kissed hundreds of times by now, both in character and in real life, so how does this still feel like a special occasion?

I swallow when his thumb travels across my throat and his hand eventually settles firmly at the nape of my neck, letting me know who’s in control. I reach up to him eyes closed and feel his breath dancing on my lips. He lets out a pleased laugh at my eagerness before he kisses the corner of my mouth and then gently my lips. His tongue slips into my opening mouth and I let it lick its way in. As the kisses grow more and more passionate, I feel the familiar desire take over and I slide my hands underneath his jacket from the opening at the front.

He breaks the kiss to give us a chance to replenish our air and when I open my eyes, his are still closed. His lashes fanned out, lips slightly open and thoroughly kissed, he’s never looked more beautiful – except now when his eyes flutter open and those pools of warm ocean look into mine. My thigh pressing between his legs, I can feel him getting as hard as I am and I try to reach down the front of his jeans, but he swats my hand away, grabbing my wrists and pushing them behind my back.

"Uh-huh, not yet, baby, the night is still young."

"But I…" I whine.

"You said you wanted a kiss and you got a kiss. Patience, Tim."

And with that and a wink he lets go of me, unlocks the bathroom door, and leaves. I slump against the wall for a moment but then adjust my pants and follow him. Despite my frustration, I can’t help but appreciate his game. The man definitely knows what he’s doing.

When we emerge back at our table to finish the rest of our desserts, our waiter politely pretends as if he’s noticed nothing.

We tip him generously when we leave.

 

 

Out on the street, Armie takes me back to the direction of our hotel, but when we are almost at the entrance and I slow down, he only picks up his pace.

”Come on, we’re not going back there yet, we have a play to catch.”

I check my watch. It’s five minutes to eight. There is no way we have enough time to get to an eight o’clock show anywhere…and then I see the oldest theater in Boston, the Colonial Theatre, right in front of us. Armie leads me around the corner and down an alleyway to the stage door at the back of the building. A middle-aged, rough-looking but friendly man is already there, waiting for us.

Armie gives the man a quick but warm hug. ”Good evening sir, nice to see you again. Thank you so much for arranging this.”

”No problem, very good to see you Armie, and great to have you both here. I talked to the house manager just a minute ago and everything should be fine.”

Armie nods approvingly and turns to me. ”Timmy, this is Frank, he used to work on our show on Broadway before he moved here, and he has arranged for us to be seeing the show from the back.”

Frank and I shake hands and then we waste no time in climbing the three sets of stairs to reach the uppermost level of the theater, where there’s only a narrow balcony without any seats. We hear the excited buzz of the audience low below us on the lower balconies and the orchestra floor.

”My apologies but I’m afraid you’re going to have to stand for the show. I could have arranged for chairs but you wouldn’t have been able to see anything sitting down because of this,” Frank taps the solid wooden railing in front of us. ”It’s only a 90-minute show, though.”

”Oh, that’s fine, we have just been sitting down for two hours.”

The house lights go down and Frank leaves us there, alone.

Right before the curtain opens, Armie explains that this is the newest play of a playwright I like and that they are trying the production out here in Boston before a potential Broadway run.

”Oh my God, really? This is so amazing. I think I read about this a while ago and really wanted to try and come up here to see it.” I would really like to thank him with a kiss, but even though there’s no one with us right now, we are still technically in public. So I settle for squeezing his hand, my eyes beaming with excitement. ”This is really the best surprise, thank you.”

The play is enthralling and we watch it without saying a word, only exchanging looks at especially intriguing scenes or surprising lines.Towards the end, there is a scene where the main characters dance for the last time before one of them is sent to a war zone. As they start the record player on stage, Armie pulls me into his arms, defying the chance that someone will come in and see us.

”You requested dancing for our first date, so does this count?” he whispers and wraps his arms around my waist.

”For now at least,” I smile and glance up at him before leaning my head lightly back against his chest.

”God I’ve missed holding you,” he sighs, tightening his grip on me, and I relax into him.

We stand pressed against each other, barely swaying to the music, for the duration of the song and then disentangle, just in time for Frank to quietly open the door and come in to check on us.

He stays with us until the end, and after the curtain call, ensures that we get to leave from another side door to avoid running into the crowd already gathered at the stage door. We manage to escape just in time, and hear the audience erupting from the theater onto the street behind us when we are already at the far end of the block.

 

 

It’s only a short walk to our hotel and this time there are no more detours. The activities of the evening have provided a welcome change of scenery compared to our work-filled days, but we have now waited long enough to be alone with no prying eyes, and we both know exactly what will happen once we get back to our room. I can’t help but innocently brush my fingers against Armie’s in anticipation as we walk.

In the hotel elevator, we stand at a respectable distance from each other and nod politely to the other hotel guests wishing them goodnight when they exit at their respective floors. We continue up to the penthouse floor and behave ourselves up until the moment the suite door clicks shut behind us.

Armie pushes me against it in that second, pinning my arms above my head and kissing me with the force that he has probably been holding back all night. He bites on my bottom lip before finding my tongue with his and I am trying my best to keep up, pushing my hips against his thigh that is now pressed between my legs. Clearly, I haven’t been the only one who’s been bottling up their desire this evening.

He leaves me gasping as he moves to bite and suck on my neck and I try to incoherently express that I have to film on Monday and I shouldn't have any marks on me or my makeup artist will kill me.

"I'm just going to mark you under your clothes then," he grunts. "That Paul guy is going to remember to keep his hands off."

"Oh, that's what this is about? Are you actually jealous of him?"

I push him off of me, but only far enough to get a good look at his face. His cheeks are flushing; with excitement or embarrassment, I'm not sure.

"Armie, I think he's great to act with but that's all. He’s not my type, I don't even find him that attractive."

"Oh come on, he's gorgeous."

"Wouldn't know, haven't noticed," I say softly and kiss him on the lips. "Despite what I said at the restaurant earlier, I honestly don't think about anyone else but you. It’s actually a bit distracting on set at times when I keep thinking about how you would’ve delivered a certain line or something."

He looks a little more relieved, as he should be. For six years, he has inhabited the major part of my brain and I have no plans to let anyone else move in.

"But…just in case Paul himself doesn't have a hot boy- or a girlfriend to lust after, it might be only sensible to leave him a little reminder anyway," I suggest because my initial resistance had not been against Armie’s plans, rather than his misconstrued jealousy.

I pull him towards the bed and he doesn’t need to be asked twice. He quickly kicks off his shoes, takes off his jacket, and pushes me onto the bed, leaning over me and roughly pushing my shirt up. The first kisses land on my navel before his mouth moves upwards, sucking on the skin over my ribs and leaving bite marks all the way up to near my right nipple.

”I’m going to need the rest of your clothes off, too,” he orders gruffly.

I gladly leave the task up to him. I watch half-sitting up as he unbuttons my shirt and then pulls off my pants and shoes. When he has me naked, he stops to take a look at me as if admiring his work before kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed.

That’s the last thing I see before my eyes close involuntarily at his first kiss on my foot, and I sink into the pillows.

He keeps a firm grip on my foot with one hand, as his lips and teeth graze the bones at my ankle and his other hand already hurries to slide further up. The hand leads the way but his tongue is quick to follow, and he moves meticulously upwards along my calf, over the knee, and up my thigh, parting my legs as he goes. It takes excruciatingly long for his lips to reach where I desperately want them, but when they do engulf me, it’s every bit as wet and slick inside as I remembered. Before our week apart, he had had three weeks of live practice at sucking me off and his mouth clearly hasn’t forgotten what it had learned. And even though it hasn’t been very many days since I came on the sheets of my lonely hotel room with his voice on the phone next to me on my pillow, it still feels like years of pent up lust are bubbling right under my skin, ready to boil to the surface any moment now. Thus, this chapter of things, in turn, develops excruciatingly fast and I can’t really hold myself back at all, no matter how much I would want this to never end.

He won’t let me pull out even though I give him the three-second warning and so I come between his warm, swollen lips with a force that almost leaves me unconscious.

I babble unintelligible thank yous when my ability for speech returns and reach for his belt, but he shakes his head.

”No, that was just for you. We have all night.”

I sink back into the soft bed and he goes to get two flute glasses from the cabinet in the corner, followed by a bottle of champagne from the fridge below. I watch him deftly work on the foil and the twisted wires around the cork.

”Magic fingers,” I note from the bed, slowly coming back to the land of living again.

”You would know,” he smirks and opens the bottle with a loud pop.

We toast to our first official date night, and kiss with the bubbles still covering our lips.

 

 

After putting the rest of the champagne on ice, Armie gets on the bed next to me still fully clothed, and sits back against the pillows on the bed. I crawl into his lap naked, settling on my side against his chest, my head resting on his shoulder. He drags his fingertips lazily back and forth on my side as we talk.

"How much longer do you still need to be up here?" I ask, as if I hadn't calculated the number of days and checked with the production manager daily whether things were running on schedule.

"Only until Thursday and then I'll join the rest of you."

”I miss having you on the same set. I think everyone does. Luca especially.”

”I’ve missed everyone, too. It’s such a small group of us up here, and we feel a bit isolated, I think, especially with all the pictures coming in from the rest of you guys non-stop. It’s easy to get envious of the fun you all seem to be having. Or jealous about stupid stuff,” he admits.

"You silly old man.” I reach up to lightly kiss the underside of his jaw. ”I can't wait for everyone to be back together again though, either.”

”Even if I won’t have scenes with you until the very end, it will at least be better to be in the same town.”

”And the same hotel.”

While we have tried to be discreet around the crew, by now the assistants have intentionally started to book just one room for us whenever we change locations and accommodation. Even though no one discusses it openly in front of us, we suspect that pretty much everyone knows that we are no longer just co-stars. The tight-knit nature of Luca’s team has ensured that the knowledge has stayed within the group, however.

My head still on Armie’s shoulder, I run my fingers leisurely down the button placket of his shirt. I open the third button and snake my way under the starched, white fabric. My fingers knot in the hair on his chest and I tug a little, making his eyes flash with a shard of pain and then pleasure when I massage the same spot soothingly. His breathing speeds up as he knows I’m not going to leave it at that.

Opening of the fourth button allows my hand to fit in in its entirety, my fingertips now reaching all the way to his nipples. It only takes a couple of slow grazes to turn them into peaks, before my hand changes direction and starts to slide down his chest and stomach. He swallows.

Until now, his eyes have been locked to mine, but he now forgets to return my gaze and only watches the mound of my hand moving slowly downwards under his shirt. When it reaches his waist, I push myself up fully and sit back to straddle his hips. I make quick work of the rest of his buttons and soon have his broad, golden chest in front of me, raising and falling at the pace of his breathing. Watching him bite his lip in anticipation, I unbuckle his belt and snap the button of his jeans open, bending down to lick the skin barely above their waistband. He is already pleasantly hard under me, and I shift my weight but only a little, knowing fully well that that amount of friction does nothing but create the craving for more.

”Jesus, Tim,” he grunts and tries to cant his hips up, but I won’t let him.

”Not so fast.” After everything he’s pulled tonight, it’s finally my turn to control what he can have and when.

With spread fingers, I slide my palms up along the expanse of skin on his sides, and support myself on him as I lean down with an open mouth. The kiss is sloppy and needy, far from a romantic or measured one, and as it gets hungrier and hungrier, I have to remind myself to keep holding on to my original plan.

”Tell me what you want,” I manage against his lips.

”You,” he moans, sounding like all he’s capable of right now are one-syllable words.

”You’ll have to be a bit more specific,” I smile into the next kiss, even though I don’t really need the instructions. Just as he has been learning about my body, by now I know, too, which buttons to push to drive him crazy the fastest. It’s the _getting him to beg for it_ part that is really my goal and the prize for a job well done.

He is bulging obscenely in his pants by now, so I reach down and free him from them, curving my fingers around him and stroking him slowly – once.

”What the– Don’t fucking stop…”

I grin but try to appease him by sucking on his nipples the way he likes it – enclosing them in my mouth entirely and then alternating between flicks with the tip of my tongue and barely there bites – before I crawl down to tend to his crotch again. I take him into the wet heat of my mouth and delicately suck at the head, but just as he starts thrusting into my mouth I pull back. This move doesn’t go over well with him either.

”Fuck, no, no, no, Tim, please...”

I smile to myself at his desperation and after telling him he’s a good boy and he can handle it, return my lips on him again.

By the time he’s threatening to kill me if I dare to stop, I can’t really keep him deprived any longer and after he comes blurting out one profanity after another, I make sure to lick him clean of every last drop that I didn’t already catch.

 

 

I crawl up to lay next to him on the bed and, leaning on my elbow, just watch him. I smile seeing him spent, eyes closed, chest still heaving with shallow breaths. Considering how weak he can make me with just a certain look, I love knowing that I am also able to reduce him to this state.

”Baby, that was incredible.” His arm reaches for me blindly.

”I aim to please.”

”That you did, kid, that you did. I think I forgot my own name there for a second. And yes, I know there’s a call-me-by-something-namejoke somewhere in there, but my brain is in no state to come up with it now.”

I chuckle and bite on his shoulder lightly before I leave him on the bed and get up to go to the bathroom to relieve myself.

I close the bathroom door behind me and lean against the sink, glancing at the wall-length mirror. I see a sweaty face, with curls stuck to my forehead and glistening lips that inescapably want to curve into a smile. It is also the face of a man who feels intoxicated – not only with the champagne but with an emotion that I may have never truly felt before. I have begun to grasp at describing it to myself, putting the words together like puzzle pieces, but I also feel that it’s too early to share the final picture with him yet. I take a deep breath and nod to my reflection as in a silent agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! The second half of the story will post in a few days :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We continue where we left off, and later, Saturday turns into a blissful Sunday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter concludes this series. I have loved writing these versions of the boys and am so grateful to everyone for reading. I hope you enjoy where we leave them.

When I leave the bathroom and walk back to Armie, I pause at the floor-to-ceiling window beside the bed. The ink black sky twinkles with the lights from the Boston skyscrapers in the distance behind the park. The view reminds me of home, of the nights I sat by my window as a teenager looking out to the sea of tall, lit-up buildings of midtown New York. It also makes me think of something that I’ve always wondered about.

I press my palms against the smooth glass and glance at Armie. "You wanna hear something?"

"Always." He looks at me from the bed, one furry arm behind his head and the other resting on his stomach.

"I've always wanted to do it against a window." It surprises me how this might have been a bashful admission with someone else, but with him, I am well beyond that point.

Even though it’s been barely thirty minutes from his last orgasm he's instantly interested and his hand slides further south.

"Oh yeah? Like at a high-rise like this?"

"Preferably. Streel-level stuff might lead to being arrested for indecent exposure or something," I grin.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that, now would we." He gets up from the bed and turns off the lights so that the room is illuminated only by the sliver of light cast from under the bathroom door.

His reflection in the window gets closer and closer to me until he places his large, warm hands over mine as he kisses my neck and presses me against the window. The glass feels cool under my palms and chest and seeing the entire city glittering in front of us is exhilarating.

He nuzzles his nose behind my ear, his stubble scratching lightly against my skin. I tilt my head to the side and he rewards me with kisses down the taut skin on my neck. I feel him getting harder against me, and he only needs to look down over my shoulder to see the state I’m in by now.

I free one of my hands from under his and reach back to grab tightly at his hair as he sucks now on the skin on my shoulder and then collarbone. His now idle hand finds its way down to my waist.

”Please touch me.”

”I’m touching you right now,” he breathes into my ear as his arm encircles my body and his nails sink into my side.

”You know what I mean.”

When he starts to stroke my throbbing length telling me how beautiful I look in the night lighting, with a couple of expletives added, I am quickly so far gone that I’m sure this fantasy will come to an end way too soon. I tell him as much, at which he promptly lets go of me and turns me around to face him.

”We can't leave a mess on the window for the poor maid to clean up,” he mumbles holding me close. ”Besides,” he swallows, ”I have waited all night to have you inside me.”

I stop and look at him incredulously. We have explored a lot during these glorious weeks, but that has been the one thing he hasn't suggested so far and I haven't asked, knowing he'd bring it up when he wanted to – if he ever even wanted to.

And now he's asking. Is he sure?

He sees the question on my face when I pull back, and leans in to kiss me again.

”I'm sure,” he half-kisses, half-breathes into my mouth.

”Okay,” I nod several times, hoping I don’t look too feverish.

He gives me a decidedly steady look, probably to calm his own nerves more than mine. ”How do you want me?”

I push his hair tenderly back from his forehead.

”On your back, I want to see you.”

I have barely touched his chest with my palm to push him towards the bed when he already pliantly lays down on the crumpled sheets. To have him spread out under me like this is almost too much for me; I still can’t believe this Greek god I had fallen for so many years ago is now mine to enjoy and worship. I keep looking at him in wonder, until he gets impatient and tugs me onto the bed to continue.

I keep a close eye on him when I eventually start to push into him, but based on those of his sentences that I can actually make sense of, he only seems to want more of me inside him and I happily oblige. Despite the divine tightness around me, I manage to let him reach his climax first. He spurts all over his chest crying obscenities laced with my name, and very soon after, I come as I’ve always wanted to: inside him with his hands buried in my hair and his lips breathing life back into me.

 

 

”Was that worthy of your fantasy? Cross that off your bucket list, now?” His hand strokes the back of my head as I lay on top of him.

Still euphoric, I mouth at the skin on his throat. ”Umm, technically, neither of us came when we were at the window so I'm not sure if that counts.”

”So that means we’ll have to try again harder some time.”

”It’s a deal,” I smile, balancing the tip of my tongue between my teeth. And then, more gingerly: ”And you, you okay?”

”More than. We will definitely do this again, too. I would have all of you inside me if I could,” he adds and sucks my tongue into his mouth.

We fall asleep in the position we have quickly gotten accustomed to; me tucked against his side, his arm around me and mine resting over his heart.

  

 

On Sunday morning, I wake up on the other side of the bed – I must have rolled over in my sleep. I pull myself back and curl up against Armie. He’s sleeping on his back, one arm bent at the elbow and over his head, serene face turned towards me. I inch myself closer to rest my head against his forearm and press my nose into his armpit. He smells of sweat, sleep, and hints of deodorant. My light touch there stirs him, but he just scoops me closer without fully waking up. I play with the hair on his chest, and when I can’t resist the urge to brush over his nipple, he opens his eyes.

His voice is hoarse from sleep. ”That’s how you say good morning these days, huh?”

I press my lips on the nipple and mouth _good morning_ there on his skin.

He reciprocates by kissing all over my face aimlessly enough that I have to squeeze my eyes shut. Pleased, I still say: ”You know I’m going to go back with the worst beard burn, right?”

”Isn’t that what the makeup team is for?”

”You are definitely helping to keep them busy.”

We order breakfast to our room and eat in bed. My toast ends up crumbling all over me and the bed sheets and when half a spoonful of Nutella drops on my chest too, Armie stops me from wiping if off, intentionally smearing it all over my skin instead.

”No, let me”, he hums and licks it all off in wide swipes. I bury my hand into the nest of disheveled hair at the back of his head and pull him up to kiss me at the end. I can still taste the remnants of the Nutella.

”There’s a photography show at this art gallery that I thought we could go check out, if we want to leave this room at some point,” he suggests after I allow him to return to his side of the bed.

”Sounds good. But not just yet, okay?” I turn to lie on my stomach and watch him finish his breakfast.

The sun has filled the room and his bedhead of hair looks as golden as it possibly can. He picks up messy pieces of the scrambled eggs one after the other with a fork is more like a child’s utensil in his large hand. The glistening bacon grease gets licked from his lips and he chases everything down with what’s left of his coffee, swallowing in big gulps. When he’s finished, he lies down again, face next to mine.

I run my fingers over the stubble on his cheek and ask, meaning more than just the finished breakfast: ”Are you happy now?”

”Very,” he nods with his smile reaching all the way up to his eyes and crumpling their corners into those laugh lines that I know so well.

I want to tell him how much more than just happy I am, but he looks at me with so much tenderness that it overwhelms me, and I have to bury my grinning face into the pillow instead.

”What?”

”Nothing”, I mumble against the pillow.

I feel him press a kiss between my shoulder blades and then his hand running lightly down my back. At the bottom of my spine his palm moves to cup my waist and I relax into his touch before he squeezes there and I yelp.

”Hearing you laugh makes me even happier, though,” he notes and his fingers head directly for the spot right above my hip where he always gets a reaction out of me. I laugh and squirm helplessly, but only closer to him because nothing could make me want to get further away from him.

”I had a surprise planned for you, you know, but I was so eager to get here that I forgot to pack it with me,” I confess after his hand has returned to rest on my back and my breathing has calmed down again.

”Oh? What was it?”

”I don’t know if I should tell you. I mean, I could save it for when you get back.”

”Give me a hint.”

”I wanted to make you come without you being able to see me or touch me,” I say with a pretend nonchalance, knowing that this goes well beyond just giving a hint.

He closes his eyes and swallows. ”Well, fuck me.”

”That was the plan,” I flop over to lie on my back and smile at the ceiling.

”Those are my two favorite things that you would’ve taken away from me, though. Looking at you and touching you.”

”It would’ve involved the third.”

”Which is...?”

”You’ll find out in due time.”

He pulls himself up quickly and pins me against the bed. ”No, you tell me now or I’m never letting you go.”

I wouldn’t have anything against that scenario either but I relent anyway.

”Let’s just say that back on set, there’s one very confused costume assistant wondering why she’s missing several of those long black silk scarfs.”

”Fuck. How did I ever find you?” He rests his forehead on mine before kissing me and rolling off of me. ”So, Thursday night?”

”We have the dinner planned with the whole crew when you guys get back,” I remind him.

”Let’s skip dessert.”

 

 

It’s a miracle we ever manage to get out of that bed but eventually we do, and after getting ourselves to look representable enough, we head towards the South End neighborhood. The photography show he takes me to is in on the loft level of the art gallery, in one of the red brick buildings that the neighborhood is populated by. It is a joint exhibition by two up-and-coming artists who explore gender identity with their black and white photographs, and I am fascinated by their works. Having your date know you for years before taking you out definitely has its perks.

There are a lot of people browsing the gallery this Sunday morning, and a few of them clearly recognize us. However, no one approaches us with more than a polite nod and a smile, save for one young man that we take a picture with in the hall at the end of our tour.

We walk leisurely back towards the hotel through the neighborhood, and the weather is glorious. Being early December, it’s chilly with clear blue skies and people are enjoying their Sunday walks with friends or family. For a short, quiet residential block we hold hands but barely, ready to make it look accidental if needed. The brief stolen touches such as this, or Armie’s hand slid half-way down my back pocket in the safety of the tightly-packed elevator on our way back to the street level from the gallery, are all we can afford to have, for now at least. Having to be somewhat careful in public is something I’m used to, but it frustrates me on a completely different level when it’s him I would like to touch, hold, let everyone know I belong to.

”You know, I had this idea,” Armie starts as if he’s heard my thoughts, when we stop at a busy intersection and the calm of the morning is gradually gone. ”What if we went away somewhere in January after the filming ends? Somewhere where we could be just the two of us, before anything has to be public.”

”I’m in, you don’t even have to ask. Where would we go?”

”I’ll think of something,” he says but has a look on his face that says he’s already half-way concocting a plan.

As we near downtown again, he says tentatively that he had had a specific lunch place in mind. ”But that would barely leave us time to pick up our bags at the hotel before you have to leave. So I was thinking–”

”I’m listening.”

”–that we could just grab tacos to the hotel and eat there.”

”I’ll eat more than the tacos there.”

”The mouth on you, kid…” He shakes his head and waves me into the subway station across the street. ”Come on, there’s a great take-out place right in here.”

 

 

Back at the hotel, I lean against the wall next to our suite while Armie balances the bag of Mexican food on one hand and our room key in the other. I slip into the room as soon as he opens the door and pull him in with me.

”Finally I can kiss you again.”

I take his hand, turn it palm upwards and kiss the tender skin on the inside of his wrist.

”That’s the place you’ve been aching to kiss?” he asks, amused.

”There’s not a part of you that I wouldn’t want to kiss,” is my answer. The real meaning of that floats between the words, but still afraid that it would be too much, too soon for him, I hold myself to my own promise from last night. Technically, this is still our first date and who would say things like that on a first date, anyway?

He gets us beers from the room’s mini fridge and I open the bag of food, unwrapping the tacos and opening the cups of salsa and other sides. I arrange everything on the table in front of the window and we eat in large bites, talking sparsely. We know we still have an hour and a half before my train leaves and we can either use it eating or doing something else. After I finish my taco, I scoop up the remains of the guacamole from the cup with my finger and lick it clean.

”I want that too,” he notes, so I push the guacamole cup over to him on the table.

”That’s not what I meant,” he raises his eyebrows and I grin. After sticking my finger into the cup again, I hold out my finger and he holds onto my wrist while he sucks the guacamole off of my finger, adding an extra lick or two.

”Just to be sure I got it all.”

”Half of everything you’ve eaten today has been off of me.”

”Do you hear me complaining?”

”There’s nothing for dessert, though.”

”With you here, there’s always dessert for me,” he says and gets up.

”No, just sit,” he puts his hands on my shoulders, stopping me from leaving the table. Standing behind me, he presses his lips on the top of my head and starts to unbutton my shirt from above me, starting with the top button. I let him finish the job, after which he pulls me up and leads me to the bed, leaving my shirt open but on me. He crawls on top of me and after a long string of kisses that alternately taste of salsa and avocado, hetreats me as his dessert as promised, licking and biting his way down my body.

Just as he is about to take me into his mouth, there’s a knock on the door.

”Housekeeping! Can we come in or would you rather we return later?”

We both freeze to our spots, me lying on my back, hands clutching the sheets and him with his head between my parted legs.

”Later!” he then shouts, and after a moment of complete stillness, I break into a laughter that doesn’t stop until he makes a brief visit to the head of the bed to shut me up.

 

 

Afterwards, I express numerous thank yous to his mouth for what just transpired and to the rest of him for the weekend in general. Despite our best efforts to stretch our hours together, the time has finally come for me to start heading back to the set. I button up my shirt and my jeans and then pick up my bag from the floor and start to pack up reluctantly.

Armie sits on the bed watching me in silence while I gather my clothes into my bag. After a while it begins to unnerve me.

”What? Am I forgetting something?”

”No, nothing,” he shakes his head and smiles, but continues to watch me intently.

A few minutes later I comment on it again.

”You’re making me self-conscious now.”

”Shouldn’t you be used to people looking at you?”

”It’s different when it’s you. Just tell me if something’s wrong?”

”Nothing’s wrong, I promise. If anything, it’s the opposite. I’m just thinking.”

 

 

”Okay, come here,” Armie says after I’ve zipped up my bag. ”I’m going to kiss you so thoroughly you’re not going to know what hit you until your train reaches Hartford.”

He’s right: before walking out of the door and back into the public spaces again, we need to get all displays of affection out of our systems. No passionate goodbyes at the train station for us.

He makes me go to him, and pulls me so close there’s not a single breath of air between us. My hands are wrapped around him at the bottom of his spine and they seek comfort on the warm skin under his sweater. It’s hard to tell where he ends and I begin as he seems to be breathing in and out of me. What did he once say about me fusing into him? His hands cover the entirety of the back of my head, and when they gently scratch at my scalp while his tongue is in my mouth I think I’m going to faint.

Finally he lets go of me. ”That’ll hold you until Thursday.”

”I’m not sure anything will.”

”You’re insatiable.”

”I just like kissing you.” I reach up and try to climb up to him again, even though I know fully well that we have to get going now or else I’ll miss my train.

 

 

Standing in the waiting area of the South Station, my duffel bag over my shoulder and a cup of coffee in hand, I’m acutely aware of how fast the weekend has gone by. I so wish I could have stayed longer, but small town locations equal fewer train connections and this was the only one that would still get me back in time. Luckily Thursday is only four days away, as the idea of now walking away from him physically aches me.

We hear the boarding call, and I’m about to join the crowds heading for the platform, when Armie hastily grabs my arm.

"Hey, Tim."

He pulls me back towards him one more time and whispers in my ear that thing that we both have confessed to out loud in interviews dozens of times, but never before in this, most visceral, most intimate sense. To others, it must look like he just wants to remind me about something in the midst of the loud noises of the station. To me, it’s a whisper of a new lifetime.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter concludes this series. 
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you all for having followed along, and for the time you've spent with these versions of the boys <3 There are so many great fics around and I know everyone has busy lives so I am not taking that for granted. Your support and comments have meant (and will mean) everything; both during writing this and as I plot my next adventures :) Much love to each and everyone of you!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I would love to hear what you thought and I’m also on tumblr: [angel-in-new-york-city](http://angel-in-new-york-city.tumblr.com)


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